One Week Ago
by realhermoine
Summary: Harry and Draco have come out, and Hermione reflects. First chapter only, the others are an explanation, of sorts. Review if you please. Pre Half Blood Ponce. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters and passing locations belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. And maybe Warner Brothers, but i am not familiar with the fine print of those lisencing agreements, more's the pity.**

**Summary: Harry and Draco have come out, and Hermione reflects.**

**One Week Ago**

**By: RealHermione**

Harry and Draco, brave as they are, announced their relationship last week. I bet they would call them selves 'lovers'. In retrospect, it explained a lot of things:

Like the flush that has stained Harry's cheeks for the past couple months. Harry's continued absence from the hospital wing. Draco's bitten thumbnail, which has just begun to grow back. The mystery of one person going flying, yet two shadows appearing over the Quidditch field, making patterns far too complex to mean nothing.

The random French Harry mumbles in potions. His late mornings spent behind the safety of his bed hangings, waiting to be the last person in the dormitory. The one card that Harry read on Valentine's Day, instead of throwing it in the bin with the others.

Harry's new affinity for thick, creamy parchment, that he will sometimes run his fingers over, forgoing taking notes. The anonymous chocolates he gets by school owl every Monday, as if to make up for the weekend being reclaimed by time's never-ending cycle. The burning anticipation in Harry's eyes when he says he is going for a walk. The same eyes that are half-closed when he returns.

The tears a month ago that he explained away as allergies, ones he has never had before. Harry not minding when Ron and I are off together, sometimes encouraging it for all he is worth, which is so much more than he knows, and I know Draco suspects.

It also explains why, when Harry met Voldemort a week and two days ago, he laughed like he has never done, and proceeded to win.

/\/\

I am happy for them, certainly I am, but, big as my brain is, I am irritated that I did not figure it out on my own. Figure it out before they got up and met toe-to-toe in the center of the celebration feast, bringing silence. They had looked at each other for a couple of seconds, faces unreadable, and proceeded to wrap their arm around each other and kiss. I think it is the purest thing I have ever seen in my eighteen years.

It gives me a small bit of shame to say that I was only the second person to give them a standing ovation. Ron was first, and how very proud of him I am. Dumbledore was third, and everyone after that. Everyone.


	2. Chapter 2

See disclaimer in Chapter One.

"_Like the flush that has stained Harry's cheeks for the past couple months."_

Harry looked around the dusky hallway, making sure that he was alone. The thick carpet muffled his steps, but it was much more difficult to dissuade someone of what they saw, rather than what they heard. Seeing no one, he opened the door the old professor's office, and hurried inside. He took his time closing the door, making it as soundless as possible. Harry looked around the small room. He was the first one to arrive.

A month ago he had been perusing the Marauder's Map, and had seen this room, far away from his normal routes. The next day he had searched for, and found the room. It was protected a weak locking charm that shattered at his first (map-suggested) spell. The room had been the same as now, just with more dust. It had a richly colored desk towards the back, and a low, domed ceiling. There were bookshelves, mostly empty, along the walls and a door that was not a door at all, just an enchanted piece of wall near the back. There was a tall chair behind the desk, with its back to him. They must have left it like that last time. A wide window that let in noon light was behind the chair, facing the lake.

Harry started pacing in the space between desk and door, from one bookshelf to the other. He was too full of nerves to sit down in the chair, even though he knew it would give him a semblance of control over the situation. Maybe he could try to practice what he would say again? He had been dong so all morning and the right words still had not come.

"Malfoy, I…" he mumbled, then swore. " Draco, I….Damn, this should not be so difficult!"

"What should not be _so_ difficult?"

Harry jumped back and pointed his wand at the voice. In the chair sat a seemingly calm Draco Malfoy. Harry lowered his wand.

"You were there the whole time!"

"Yes, I was" Draco smirked.

"You could have told me!" Harry crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

Draco moved his hand to the desk, leaving it there as he swiveled the chair. Harry could not take his eyes off the finger tips that moved along the desk, dragging slightly at each change of direction.

"I would have said something, had you done the typical Gryffindor thing and asked if anyone was here. I must be rubbing off on you." He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner a looked satisfied when Harry broke eye contact and looked down at his feet.

"Yes, well…"

"And what was it that you were saying to an imaginary me?" As he was saying this Draco got out of the chair a walked around to the front of the desk, leaning against it and using his hands for support. Harry's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He took a deep breath.

"Well, I wanted…I would like…"

"Yes?" Draco sounded like he was barely holding onto his control. Harry firmed his resolve and looked Draco in the face, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Draco" His voice was shaky. He tried again. "Draco" better "I would like you to know that I am accepting your offer to be boyfriends, lovers if you will."

One moment he was standing in front of Draco, and the next he was pushed back towards the door with an armful of blonde, pure-blooded, wizard. He wound his arms around Draco squeezing tightly. Draco's head was buried in his neck whispering nonsense. Harry tugged on the small hairs at the back of Draco's neck, and Draco turned his face up and they met in a bruising kiss.

Harry broke away, grinning like a loon, when Draco's stomach grumbled. Draco looked slightly ashamed, but Harry just laughed and spun Draco around, setting him down lightly. Draco kissed him on the cheek, and took a step back.

"You know that we can't—"

"I know."

"Yes, well," Draco brightened "Beat you to lunch!" he dodged around Harry, ripped open the door and ran down the hallway. Harry just shook his head and continued at more sedate pace. How playful Draco could be.

When he walked in through the doors to the Great Hall, Harry chanced a glance at Draco, to find him laughing uncharacteristically loud. Harry made his way over to Hermione and Ron, sitting across the table from them.

"Blimey mate, did you run here?" Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron's question.

"No,why?

"Your cheeks are all red."


	3. Chapter 3

See Chapter One for Disclaimer

Hospital Wing

_Harry's continued absence from the hospital wing._

It was a week into sixth year, and Harry had yet to even _share words_ with Draco Malfoy. The pointy little bugger never seemed to be within speaking distance. Not that Harry minded. He liked not talking to Malfoy. The silence was just a little…unsettling.

He didn't know if he was at the center of some nefarious plot, of Malfoy actually was minding his own business. Harry decided to find out on his own terms.

After potions on the second Tuesday of classes, Harry followed Malfoy for a little bit. When he was dangerously close to losing his quarry to the maze of dungeon corridors, Harry called out.

"Hey, Malfoy!"

Malfoy stopped and turned around. Crabe and Goyle were not at their usual spots, as they had not even merited letters on their Potions NEWTS, something which Snape pointed out often. The Slytherin looked cornered, but his ever-present visage was there.

"Yes Potter? Is there some reason you are accosting me in a dungeon hallway, far away from the stains of Gryffindor territory?" He crossed his arms over his chest, and placed his feet farther apart. Typical Slytherin, defending himself ten seconds onto a conversation.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"And , it may seem, you are in the process of doing so. Is there a specific topic you wanted to converse about? Doxies? Dragon blood? The size of Snape's—"

"You can stuff that though right back where it came from" Harry was blinking rapidly, trying to rid him self of the picture of Snape's…anything.

"I was going to say 'favorite cauldron'" Malfoy wore a self-satisfied smile, pleased a riling Harry up.

"Anyways. I wanted to enquire about your current silence and what you intend with it" Harry let the phrase out a little too quickly, and Malfoy caught it.

"You practiced that line didn't you?" he laughed. It was slightly less mean than usual. His face changed quickly, and he motioned Harry to follow him, holding up a finger to his lips to indicate quiet. Harry hesitated for a moment before going after his…enemy? That didn't quite sound right. Malfoy went around a sharp corner, and when Harry came to the spot, all he saw was wall.

"Wha—" and a hand pulled him through. They were in a small out cove, with a single candle on the wall, newly lit. It still was not very bright. Malfoy was leaning against the wall, and let go of Harry as an afterthought.

"I had a conversation with Dumbledore." Judging by his facial features and tone of voice, Harry knew exactly what was implied. Even so, he let the moment stretch out. This changed a giant part of his perception, but not unwelcomely.

"Good for you." He sounded genuine and Malfoy faltered a little.

"Yes, well, the good will be all your doing. If you let me down, I will be very disappointed…Harry." He looked straight into the other boy's eyes, an honest look on his face. Harry experienced a moment of wonder before he smiled widely.

"If you were not who you were, I would hug you, Draco" He liked the name Draco, it was a new experience.

"Too good for me? Can't soil your robes with Slytherin filth?"

Harry was about to explain himself, when he caught _Draco's_ tone. He was joking! The nerve…

"No, I just don't want to end up in the hospital wing." He made sure his tone was joking too.

"I don't think you have to worry about that" Draco paused for a moment "I promise to not purposely put you in the hospital wing, if you will too?"

"Of course I will promise not to put myself in hospital wing" he grinned wickedly.

"You know what I mean, you prat."

"Yes, I do" and he stuck his hand out, poised for a handshake. Draco looked at his hand, and shook it vigorously.

"Oh, and you can't tell anyone."

"Why?" Harry retrieved his hand, consciously not rubbing where it now tinged.

"Do I need to answer that?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I guess not. Listen, I should get back…" Harry looked towards the entrance.

"Yes, but I should leave first, it will look better."

Before Harry could question that logic, Draco was brushing past him, out of the out cove. Harry could have sworn he felt a hand on his bum.


	4. Chapter 4

For disclaimer see Chapter One.

Bitten Thumbnail

_Draco's bitten thumbnail, which has just begun to grow back._

"Draco, what are you doing?"

Draco was sitting in the middle of 'their' bed in 'their' room. The old professor's office looked much more homey with a bed as the centerpiece. The desk had not been too difficult to transfigure. The blonde was in his pajama bottoms and only had one sock on. His hair was mussed, and eyes dull. He had been chewing avidly on his thumbnail, gazing out the window, but not really concentrating.

He had stopped at Harry's voice, and looked to where his lover was sorting through clothes at the end of the bed.

"What do you think I am doing?" his reply came out tense, clipped. He took a deep breath and started again, calmer. "I was looking out the window" Draco broke eye contact and looked back to the sky.

"Yes, but you were biting your nail,_ something which I have never seen you do._" As he said this, Harry moved to sit across from Draco, grasping his hands, turning them so the abused thumb showed.

"No, I wasn—" Draco stopped when he saw the evidence. The tip of his finger was bright red, with the white nail half off, creating an unsightly point.

"I…Harry…I'm just so worried about you." Draco dropped Harry's hands, flinging himself at the Gryffindor. They ended up flat on the bad, Harry cradling Draco to him. Draco was holding on for dear life, rubbing his cheek on Harry's shoulder.

"Everything will be alright. If we got through last week, we can make it through anything."

"But—"

"No buts, except for yours, which I love." Harry patted the body part in question. Draco sighed.

"I guess you're right" in a second he moved away from Harry and back to his former position.

Harry went back to the clothes, chancing a look at Draco. His thumb was on its way back to his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

See Chapter One for Disclaimer

Two Shadows

_The mystery of one person going flying, yet two shadows appearing over the Quidditch field, making patterns far too complex to mean nothing._

Harry was eating his diner as if it might be his last one. There was no order to the food that went in his mouth, just speed. The girls sitting around him were slightly disgusted, and the boys were subconsciously trying to keep up.

"Hey mate, what's this? Trying to disappear your dinner with out a wand?" Harry barely glanced at Seamus.

As he took one more bite of…something, and a swig of pumpkin juice, Harry got up from the table.

"Where are you going Harry, there is still tons of time before dinner is over. Though if you could stuff another bite into yourself, I will be very impressed" Hermione's tone suggested that 'impressed' was not exactly what she meant.

"Come on Hermione, I'm just going flying" Harry looked impatient.

"Well, do you have your homework done?" She turned around she was facing him, her back to the table. Harry repressed a smirk (a smirk!) and the small sliver of knickers he saw.

"Yes."

"All of it?"

"Yes!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Potions paper?"

"Yes."

"Charms project?"

"Yes."

"Charms write-up?"

"Yes."

"Transfigurations illustration?"

"Yes! With color and everything!"

"Care of magical creatures model?"

"Ye—wait! We didn't have any homework for that class!"

Hermione just grinned at him.

"Yes, yes, all hail the genius who never needs to make lists and so on." He smiled back at her. "Would you mind taking my bag back to the tower for me?"

"Sure" As she was reaching for the bag, Ron intercepted her and put it down next to his.

"I'll be carrying that." And he kissed her on the nose before going back to his dinner. "Have fun Harry"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but was blushing prettily. "Yes, see you later"

"Bye!" Harry called over his shoulder, nearly running out of the great hall.

Harry walked onto the pitch, broom over his shoulder and robe back in the broom shed. He loved the feeling of standing on the edge of the field, looking up at it all. When he was in the air, the pitch wasn't all that big, but here on the ground, it dwarfed him. It was good the feel small.

"You know, there are better things to look at around here."

Harry looked to where Draco was leaning against the stands. His posture was confident, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that was slightly unsettled. Harry grinned at him and walked so that he was right in front of the blond, legs straddling Draco's crossed ones.

"Yes there are" and he leaned in for a kiss. Draco grabbed him, turned them around and pushed Harry back where he had been standing. He kissed hard, tongue doing naughty things that Harry loved.

They had not had the chance to be alone for a few days, and had both been affected. It had not been long, but officially, secretly, dating had torn down some barriers.

Draco nipped at Harry's bottom lip, receiving a moan. Harry squeezed Draco to him once before pushing him back lightly. They separated, Draco reluctantly, and let their arms drop. Harry sidestepped Draco, grabbing his broom, and mounting before the blonde had time to react.

"Wha—Wait!"

"That Draco, is why I always catch the snitch."

"Hey! You are the one who wanted to do boyfriend-y things. I might as well go up to the castle if you are going to be like that." Draco turned to go, and Harry moved forward to stop him. Draco was on his broom and behind Harry in a flash, laughing.

"You know, I think lady luck just likes you a lot, that's why you catch the snitch"

Harry turned to face a smirking Draco.

"Maybe."

"Or maybe the snitch likes—did you just agree with me?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Draco."

"Sure you don't…and about the boyfriend-y stuff? I want to do it too." Draco was looking down towards his hands.

"Draco?" he looked up "Let's fly."

And they took off, never far from each other, but not close enough to touch. Harry would pull ahead, and Draco would come up from beneath, to stop the Gryffindor. They would go in a new direction then, spiraling around each other, loving the feeling of the air whipping past, the broom underneath, and the boy close enough to talk to. But they didn't. Sometimes silence could say more than words.

When Harry could no longer feel his fingers, he motioned Draco back to the ground. It became a race, seeing who could land first. Harry slowed down to let Draco win.

"Come on Harry, give me some real competition!" Draco had turned around form his lead position, pouting slightly.

"You want some competition?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright then." And Harry flew at Draco, colliding none too gently and throwing his arms around him. Draco struggled half-heartedly, but was laughing through it. Harry had started kissing that spot under his ear.

They floated to the ground slowly, getting off their brooms, only just staying upright. Harry and Draco were both laughing now, spinning around in a drunken circle.

"That's odd."

"What's odd, Hermione?"

Hermione and Ron were walking along a corridor, near a window, and she had chanced a look towards the Quidditch pitch.

"I thought Harry was going flying alone…"

Ron squeezed her hand for a moment before going back to his relaxed grip. "Maybe he was, you know, meeting someone" it was obvious what he meant.

"No, it looked like a boy."

"Well then, maybe he was practicing."

"Yes, you must be right."


	6. Chapter 6

See Chapter one for Disclaimer

Random French

_The random French Harry mumbles in potions._

Harry looked down at the note in his hand.

**Meet me at the potions room at 8. Bring your ingredients. **

He knew well enough who it was from, but could not for the life of him figure out what Draco wanted to do in the potions room, with ingredients, and hours of free time. It was not like they were going to making a potion? No, of course not. Draco must have come up with something…interesting to do.

Harry reached the door to the potions room, looked around quickly, and walked in when he was sure that he was alone. Oh gosh. Draco was planning on making potions. He had all his ingredients laid out, book open, and cauldron over an un-lit fire. He looked up when Harry entered, a slightly malicious grin splitting his face.

"Bonjour mon petit ami, comment t'allez tu? Tu sais ce j t'aime beaucoup, non?"

"That was French, right? Because I don't speak French, and please tell me that we are not making potions."

Draco just chuckled and went to stand in front of Harry.

"We are making potions" he sped up when he saw the look on Harry's face "BUT, I thought I would make it fun" he raised his eyebrows suggestively and lead Harry over to the table. Harry sighed. And then he looked at the book.

"Wait, Draco, this is in French too."

"I know, that's where the fun comes in. I figured that since you are not that good at potions, another language wouldn't hurt any." He put his arm around Harry's waist, and squeezed for a moment before moving to the other side of the table.

"Maintenant, voir le recette pour cette potion. Voir les mots, les numéros. Ils peuvent faire la sensé, non ? Voir le premier" Draco pointed to the first item on the list "Coupe une mandrake en tranches." Draco pointed to the mandrake and mimed cutting it into slices. Harry understood. He sliced the mandrake.

The rest of the potion went like that. Draco would say and mime the direction, and Harry would do it. Every now and then Harry would do something wrong, but Draco would intercept him, brushing his fingers lightly while he was fixing the mistake.

Finally "Mélange le potion cinquante fois par minute pour le prochain dix minutes" Draco held up his fingers to indicate that Harry should stir the potion fifty times a minute for the next ten minutes. Harry nodded once to show his comprehension, and started stirring. Draco moved to stand behind him.

Harry felt hands on his shoulders, working out the knots. It felt good and he moved back into them. Draco cleared his throat to remind Harry to stir, but he needn't have. Stirring was one he was good at in potions. He just had to know how many time a minute, and his arm would do the work. Something about muscle memory from cooking for the Dursleys.

Draco's hands moved down, working the rest of Harry's back. When Harry stirred for the last time, Draco kissed him on the back of the neck, and moved to extinguish the fire. He poured the contents into a shallow bowl and spelled the cauldron clean. He checked the temperature before handing the bowl to Harry.

"Bois" and he moved Harry's hand with the bowl to Harry's lips. Harry just raised his eyebrow before letting Draco tip the bowl. It did not taste bad, just mildly different. When half the potion was gone, Draco took the bowl back drank the rest. He set it down on the table and looked up at Harry, expecting the question that came.

"So, what did we just brew, and drink?"

"'Bonne Rêves de Son Amoureux' which translates as 'Sweet Dreams '"

Harry missed Draco's small smile.

"I think that I like the French."

"Me too. Let's put these ingredients away, shall we?"

They started cleaning, leaving lingering touches when possible. When everything was packed away, Draco gave Harry a peck on the lips and walked quickly out the door, throwing a good-bye over his shoulder.

Harry frowned. Draco should have stayed for a little bit. Oh well; maybe the blonde had somewhere to be. Harry shrugged, and made his way back to Gryffindor tower.

That night Harry was plagued—well , not really plagued—by dreams of him and Draco doing things that would make anyone blush.

He did not get much sleep. The kind of sleep that a growing boy really needs.

He waited for Draco outside of breakfast the next morning, trying to get his attention when the Slytherin walked by. Draco just waved a hand at him.

Harry was getting ready to be annoyed, until he noticed and small piece of paper flying towards him. He grabbed it out of the air when it was close enough, went up a flight of stairs and around a corner to find somewhere quiet to read the note.

Looking closer, he discovered that it was actually a small heart. He unfolded it, and read.

**Literal translation of "Bonne Rêves de son Amoureux":**

'**Good (nice)Dreams of your Lover'**

**I guess I should have told you that that particular potion is only found in French. **

**They are known to be very romantic people. **

**And, rest assured, we will both probably crash in the middle of charms. I wonder what Professor Flitwick thinks of stereo snoring? **

Harry just snorted and made his way to class, deciding that he was very lucky indeed.


End file.
